


Thin White Line

by dev_chieftain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bit of a latecomer, But this guy, Gen, This fucking guy, season 4, so I had to do it officer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 17:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dev_chieftain/pseuds/dev_chieftain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Takes place shortly after 'The Rapture' in S4)</p><p>Castiel and Jimmy reacclimatize to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thin White Line

Castiel returns to Jimmy Novak and there cease to be absolute definitions of anything in the world. They breathe: their lungs ache and sting with every inhalation, their chest still hurts, and their eyes spill tears. This is Jimmy’s lingering sentiment for his daughter. Castiel reins in Jimmy’s emotions tightly, and soon enough everything is resolved. They think it over. Shortly, Castiel takes them away to a quiet corner of Argentina to get their head together. 

They have a single evening, and Castiel knows this. After that they must return to duty.

Jimmy is inconsolable within him, but gradually he pieces back together his faith. They talk. Sort of. 

“No,” Castiel answers aloud. “I’m not all right.”

He strips the bark from a nearby tree, peels it back to reveal fresh growth blossoming and blooming. Here it is late autumn, but he does this anyway, crushing the bark in his hands. His hands tremble. The bark turns green and sprouts tendrils that coil and climb along his wrists.

“I’m sorry about your daughter.”

This is not what Jimmy wants to hear, and the reminder of his family hurts them both. Castiel breaks free of the growing thing clutched in his hands, and tosses it aside. He sits down, slowly, carefully, minding wounds that do not exist and favoring injuries that are not there. He rests his back against the tree, and watches the sliver of the sky above them that is not covered by forest canopy. It turns pale gray, then silver, then blue as the sun rises.

Inside, Jimmy is always aware but sometimes not paying attention. It can be wearisome to witness conversations that do not require his input, exhausting to be conscious of what Castiel does every minute of every day. Right now is one of those times when he could not sleep or look away if he wanted it with all his heart. He asks if Castiel is dying, and tries not to let his fear at the possibility show. It feels unworthy to lack faith, now. Not now, after everything that just happened. 

“I’ll get better,” Castiel promises, and closes his eyes.

In Heaven, he was judged unworthy and he was locked down in a single, very small room. And like Hell, time in Heaven passes much more slowly than on Earth. It was not very long at all for the others, but it was over a month for Castiel. Jimmy cannot feel specifics, but there was a deep pressure on Castiel’s consciousness, as if someone had been reaching directly inside his head and rearranging things.

He speaks, in a shadow of their shared voice. “Not rearranging; fixing.”

Jimmy sees the damage left behind by that foreign hand. Little white cracks and tracery, like a broken window, run all through Castiel’s presence within him. It should be frightening, should probably be a sign. After all, fallen Angels are never good news, are they?

If he could, Jimmy would take Castiel’s hand, and squeeze it. The thought brings a quarter of a smile to Castiel’s face.

“Thank you for the consideration.”

Just as quickly, he quells the emotion, chases it back off. He seems to think that he is being cold and precise, and obedient, but Jimmy can feel the fear that guides those actions. It’s the same sensation as the cracks that line Castiel’s sense of self. They take a steadying breath, and Castiel rises to his feet. His body creaks, and he takes the time to dust himself off, lingering. 

He has work he must do, and he must not argue with his superiors. He knows this.

Jimmy doesn’t seem so sure.


End file.
